


And Something Else I Should Have Told You

by FluffyBeaumont



Category: Line of Duty
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Late at Night, M/M, Second Time, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23471815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyBeaumont/pseuds/FluffyBeaumont
Summary: Dot shows up at Steve's flat one night, drunk and disillusioned after a witness he'd counted on decides not to testify in an important case. Steve comforts him the best he can, and they make promises to each other - promises that might pave the way for a future.
Relationships: Steve Arnott/Matthew 'Dot' Cottan
Kudos: 18





	And Something Else I Should Have Told You

So it’s the middle of the bleedin’ night, right, and Dot Cottan rocks up at Steve’s, drunk off his arse and a bit the worse for wear because a witness he’d been counting on decides it’s more trouble than it’s worth for her to testify, so that’s completely fucked. He leans on the doorbell until Steve comes down, dressed in lounging pants and a t-shirt, his face replete with sleep, his hair all rucked up, eyes hazy. “Dot. What the hell?”

“You gotta let me in.” Dot is still leaning on the bell, so Steve reaches out and takes hold of his arm.

“You’ll wake up the entire fucking building,” Steve hisses. “It’s the middle of the fucking night, Dot! What the fuck are you on about?”

“She fucking bailed on us.” He steps through the door Steve is holding open, precedes him up the stairs. Of course he knows where to go. He’s been here before. He just wishes he were here more often. Steve’s like that: he acts on the senses like a drug, like some heady concoction of alcohol and lust, and once you’ve tasted him, once you’ve had him – Dot has had him – you just want more. It’s impossible to ever get enough.

“Who bailed?” Steve guides him into his flat, shuts the door behind them both. He stands looking at Dot, his face creased where it’s been pressed into the sheet, his body soft with sleep. He glances towards the refrigerator. “D’you want…I dunno, cuppa tea or something?” 

“Angela Greene, the witness. She bailed. Won’t testify.” Matthew’s shoulders slump, and he looks suddenly like a very old, very tired man. “I worked my fucking _arse_ off on this case, Steve. It’s not _fair_.” He sighs gustily. “I don’t want any tea. Do you know what time it is?” 

“I dunno,” Steve replies. He steps forward, reaching for Dot, sliding his coat off his shoulders and letting it drop onto the floor. He fumbles with Dot’s tie, loosening the knot, pulling it down his chest, slipping it over his head. “It’s late. After two, I think. I’m sorry she bailed. I know the gaffer was counting on her testifying.” He doesn’t want to think about the look of disappointment on Ted Hastings’ face. This case was so very important to AC-12, and now the whole fucking thing is slipping through their fingers.

“I tried,” Dot says. He stands perfectly still as Steve’s clever hands loosen and remove his clothes, stripping him absolutely naked. “Christ, Steve, I tried.” He tilts his head, watching Steve fumble with the buttons of his shirt. “You’re bloody determined.”

“You didn’t come here by accident,” Steve says. “I was sound asleep.” 

“I spent all night in that cell with her,” Dot says. “Trying to persuade her to change her mind. The fucking bitch—” Whatever else he was going to say is lost forever as Steve leans up and claims his mouth in a searing kiss. Dot groans deep in his throat as the kiss continues, his arms going around Steve, holding him tight, their bodies pressed flush against each other. “You ever wonder what the rest would think if they knew we were shagging?” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Steve murmurs, and it is very late indeed. It’s so late at night and what the hell was Dot doing all this time in a cell, sequestered with a witness who’d at first given her word and had now recanted? “Come to bed. Come to bed with me, Dot – Matthew – and let’s forget about the rest of it. It doesn’t fucking matter, it doesn’t.” 

It’s hot tonight, a summer night, the air as still as death, heat lying over their naked bodies and drawing sweat from their skins, heat bunched in the long muscles of Steve’s back as he rises, panting, to straddle Dot. “I just want—” Dot starts to say but he never gets there, because Steve’s busy hands are reaching between Dot’s legs, spreading slickness on his inner thighs, his cock and balls, his entrance, making him wet and hot and ready. 

“Tell me what you want,” Steve says. He’s mother-naked, glorious, his hands and mouth everywhere on Dot’s body, touching him, pleasuring him, bringing him over and over to the brink of his release and stopping, denying him.

“I want you to fuck me,” Dot says. He wraps a hand around the nape of Steve’s neck and pulls him down for another scorching kiss, the burning muscle of his tongue slipping between Steve’s parted lips, opening him, tasting him. “Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel you. I just want to feel you.” He grunts as Steve slides his hands beneath his buttocks, raising him, and then Steve’s cock is at his entrance, pushing into him, penetrating the tough ring of muscle even as it resists him. He forces himself to relax, making his body boneless, letting Steve inside, accepting him, until Steve’s cock is nudging the nub of his prostate and he cries out, as delicious sensation judders through him, lighting him up inside.

“Oh God,” Steve whispers, his fingers digging into Dot’s hipbones, “Oh God, Matthew, oh God…Oh _fuck_!” He snaps his hips, driving himself deep, his body riding Matthew’s, dragging the two of them into a vortex of ecstasy so keen it’s very nearly blinding him, and it’s all that Dot can do to hold back. He wants to come. He wants so badly to come, but he’s waiting. He wants Steve to get there first, wants to watch Steve’s face as he comes, wants to see his expression, the ecstatic gurning of his face as his climax tears through him, owning him. Christ, he wants to make Steve come, because he loves Steve, he knows this now.

“Let me in,” Dot whispers, “it’s all right, mate, I’m here. I’m just right here.” He reaches to cup Steve’s face between his palms and kiss him, and Steve is trembling, his entire body shuddering as the climax races through him, tearing him apart, and he shouts into Dot’s mouth, and Dot is there as well, coming so hard, spending himself against Steve’s belly.

They tremble down to sanity together, and for a long time there are no words. Steve’s softening cock slips out of his body and he moves to lie beside him. Dot takes him into his arms and holds him close. “What is this called,” he wonders, “this thing we’re doing? Is it all right?” 

“Go to sleep,” Steve replies, smiling gently. “There’s time enough to worry about such things in the daylight.” He reaches to move a strand of sweat-damp hair off Matthew’s forehead. “It will be all right.”

“Do you promise?” Dot asks, and there is a childlike simplicity in the asking, and he knows that Steve understands.

“I do.”

“That’s all I can ask, then.” He opens his arms and Dot comes into his embrace and after a little while they slide into sleep, and it’s perfectly all right. It’s fine. It is everything it’s supposed to be and that’s enough.

“Something else I should have told you,” Steve says, just as Dot is sliding into sleep.

“What’s that?” Dot asks, already half unconscious.

“I’m in it for the long haul,” Steve tells him, “if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that.” And Dot is mindful enough to smile before, sated with sex and with Steve’s nearness, he slips at last into a sleep as deep and gentle as the summer darkness.


End file.
